Understanding Buddy
“Goodnight
Jason,” said Frank to his son. His daughter, Sarah, was sick in bed,
and he was nervous about leaving her with the babysitter. He kissed
Jason on the head, glanced at his sleeping daughter’s room, and turned to
the sitter. “Okay, Elise, their mother should be home by nine, and
if you have any problems…” he stopped mid-sentence to scold Buddy, the family
dog. It seemed he was always demanding Frank’s attention. “Just
call me on my cell phone – oh and I put the number on the cabinet and – Buddy
you’re making me mad. Off the couch!”
“It’ll
all be fine, Mr. Smith,” said Elise, cutting him off. “You’ll be late
if you don’t leave now.” Frank was about to say more, but Elise’s convincing
smile told him everything was under control. He waved goodbye and walked
out the door, pushing Buddy out of the way. He was really aggravated
now. He opened the door to his car, slid in, and was on his way to
work. He was thinking about how Buddy could be so annoying.
Frank
came past the fire station and parked in the only spot left reserved for
employees. This was Frank’s job. He was a firefighter.
Frank
walked straight to the living room in the fire station and planted himself
on the couch. His eyes were immediately glued to the television.
Of all
the others in the room, only one noticed Frank’s arrival. “Hey, Frank. How
are you doing?” asked William. He didn’t wait for an answer, though,
but just stared back at the television. That got the attention of the
others, who all greeted Frank, but did the same thing and got lost in the
television right afterwards. This is what the firefighters usually
did until they were called to put out a fire.
Soon
Frank and a few others gave in for the night and climbed into bed. Frank
stretched and yawned. He thought about how whenever he came home, his
golden retriever, Buddy, would be at the door when he opened it. Buddy
always got too excited and jumped, and Jason would hold onto one side of
him while Sarah held the other to keep him down. Buddy would lick both
of them in the face and they would let go to wipe the drool off their faces. Buddy
would jump around again until he got tired and fell asleep on the couch. He
wasn’t supposed to go on the couch, but he always did. He wasn’t supposed
to do a lot of things. Frank frowned to himself. He didn’t like
it when Buddy jumped up on the couch. As a matter of fact, there wasn’t
much he did like about Buddy.
What
seemed like only a few moments later, a loud alarm sounded and Frank’s eyes
popped open. He leaped out of bed and jumped into his fire gear. He
piled into a truck next to all the other firefighters. The siren blared
and sounded and the truck sped into action. The firefighters were
on their way to put out a fire.
The brakes
screeched and everyone rushed out of the truck. The family who owned
the house was outside, watching the flames eat up their home. Their
son was wailing. “My dog! I need Callie! I need her!” he
screeched.
Frank
knew how much people loved their pets sometimes. He didn’t understand
this, but others seemed to. So while the other men doused the flames,
Frank hurried into the house and searched for the dog. It didn’t take
very long for Frank to find her. She was near the back door, trying
to decide whether to go through the flames or not. She was so frightened
that she reminded Frank of a mouse stuck in a trap, half dead, half alive,
not sure what to do next. He scooped up the small dog and lugged her
toward the door. She seemed to be thankful for this because she kept
trying to get her little head under Frank’s mask to give him a dog kiss. She
finally succeeded and the mask slipped off. Frank took in a couple
of breaths of the smoky air and felt dizzy. He managed to get out of
the door and then fell to the ground. He felt more dog kisses and opened
his eyes a little, as he felt himself being lifted and heaved into the truck. He
heard a siren and knew he was headed for the hospital. He drifted off
into a deep sleep, picturing the horrible chaos of what happened when he
came home: the dog drool, his sharp voice commanding “Sit, Buddy, sit,”
and the disgusted, but laughing faces of the kids. He wanted to be
with them now worse than ever.
The next
thing Frank knew, he was in an unfamiliar place that he was sure he had never
seen before. He was right outside a shop door that read, “Eye Care & Co.”. He
was about to walk away when a man with glasses came out. Frank was
in his way. The man looked down at him and smiled. Frank looked
at the face belonging to the man. The sun reflected off the clean and
obviously new glasses. He politely stepped out of the man’s
way.
Frank
started to wonder where he could be. He looked for things that he could
possibly recognize, walking for a long time before he got to a familiar street. He
looked way up at the street sign and stopped walking. “Hey, that’s
Buchanan Avenue! That’s my street,” he said to himself a little too
loudly. Some people walking by stared at him. As he walked up
the street, he passed the cemetery and quickly, but cautiously, crossed the
street. There were no cars in sight and the only sounds that Frank
heard were chirping birds. He turned left and headed for home.
Frank
walked and walked, which was strange. He couldn’t remember his house
being so far from the cemetery. Then again, Frank reminded himself,
he never walked home from anywhere either. He always used his car,
which he thought to be more convenient. Frank continued on, but there
was no sign of his house. He decided to take a rest on the lawn in
front of the closest house.
As he
was sitting down, Frank noticed something familiar about the house in front
of him. What was it? The color of the door? The flowers
in front? It looked so familiar. In a way, both of his ideas
were wrong, but they were right, too. It was not the door or the
flowers; the whole entire house was his.
Frank
got excited. He felt like he hadn’t seen his family in so long. He
ran up the front steps and knocked on the door. Sarah, who was doing
homework in the next room, came to answer the door. Frank was glad
to see her and to know that she was feeling better, but she wasn’t even half
as glad to see him. She slammed the door in his face. “Mom there’s
a strange man at the door,” she yelled. Her mother came up
from the laundry room.
The door
opened again. “Hi, Lauren. May I…” Frank
stammered.
“Okay,
whatever you want to sell me, I don’t want it,” she snapped. “You people
are always so annoying.” The door was shut again.
Jason
obviously wanted a turn, too, because he opened and closed the door in his
father’s face next.
Frank
felt like crying. Was he being punished? All he wanted to do
was be with his family. He was so happy to see them. He wanted
to hug them, to tell them how happy he was to see them – how happy he was
that he was home. Unfortunately they didn’t care. Frank
scratched his head. Suddenly he felt very tired and very alone. He
felt like he was being treated like….well….sort of like he treated Buddy. He
didn’t like the way it felt. Frank looked around for a place to sleep. He
curled up in a ball on the lawn under a tree and was asleep as soon as
his head hit the ground.
When
Frank woke up he was in a different place yet again. It had white walls,
and he was very comfortable- in a bed. This was the hospital. Lauren
and Jason were next to his bed.
The first
thing he said was, “Where’s Sarah?”
Lauren
smiled. “She’s sick, silly. Remember?”
Suddenly
a flashback of everything that had happened went through Frank’s mind. “So
that was just a dream,” he said out loud. Lauren and Jason looked confused,
but Frank didn’t need to explain.
As soon
as they had a doctor’s permission, the family left for home. When they
got there, Buddy was excited, of course, but this time the one who softly
calmed him down was Frank. And he even let him sleep on the couch.
“Understanding
Buddy”
Emily
L.-D’A.
Grade
5
District 97
Prose